


Indigo Night

by iimplicitt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1950s, Asian Character(s), Austria, Blood Magic, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/M, Healing, Horcrux Hunting, Magic, Mentioned Abraxas Malfoy - Freeform, Post-Hogwarts, Rituals, Souls, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26860984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iimplicitt/pseuds/iimplicitt
Summary: On one fateful night in Austria, Tom Riddle hadn't ever met a vampire until then. And it's the least to say she wasn't at all what he had expected, nor was he prepared.
Relationships: Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	1. indigo night

**CHARACTERS**

**FORWARD**   
_this is a short story with only three parts. i've been in a writing stump for i don't know how long and i was listening to "indigo night" by tamino on the way home and got inspired for this little piece, so it's heavily influenced. this is completely au. i barely accept anything that's actually canon so._

_i don't own tom riddle sadly._

_again, this is very short._

_enjoy._


	2. intro

do not go gentle into that good night,

old age should burn and rave at close of day;

 _rage_ ,

rage against the dying of the light.


	3. part i

**Imagining** that peculiar night again felt impossible, even to the most brilliant of minds. Nothing would ever be able to encapsulate the events that unfolded in that fateful wood in Austria.

The girl wanted to call on her sisters for an assembly as she watched him, her being a shadow as she hovered in the trees. Her skin was as pale as the moonlight, cold to the touch, and her hair like threads of the midnight sky. She shifted, not paying much attention when a piece of bark snapped.

In the dead of night it sounded like a scream.

The boy shot up, his form alert as he whirled around and his eyes raked along the treeline. Irene craned her head to the side, eyeing what he was now aiming in her general direction. A curious smile took her lips, the boy was a wizard.

"Show yourself."

His voice sliced through the air, Irene could've sworn the leaves trembled in the wake. Lowering herself into a crouch, she was still in shadows but now he could see the violet glint of her eyes in the dark, as if two stars had been plucked from the sky. He'd never seen anything like it.

Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground and her feet crunched in the snow softly. His gaze resolved from alertness to something of curiosity itself. She wasn't a witch, he quickly gained that from the way she seemed to have levitated herself in the air. Unless it was some form of wandless magic.

He raised a brow at her amused expression, but still remained a cautious distance back.

"Who do you come from?"

Her accent was heavy, but that's not what caught his attention.

"You're a vampire?"

Her fangs glinted like pearls.

"That wasn't my question."

"I believe my accent would've made it clear."

She hummed, tilting her head to the side again as she observed him. The mannerism reminded him of an owl.

"I saw you washing in the river."

"I find that intrusive and inappropriate."

"You're on our lands."

"There's more of your kind?"

The way he said it didn't sit right with her, but she shrugged it off. "You're strange," taking a step forward he took one back. She huffed, "I'm not going to harm you wizard." He didn't seem to believe her and she held up her hands, "I give you my word, and my word is my oath."

There was a rippled violet light that then seemed to flow between them, the same shade as her eyes which were glowing even more brightly. "What's this?" It didn't feel like magic, it wasn't tangible to him. Usually he could feel the pulse of it, but this was something else entirely.

"I told you, my word is my oath. I cannot lie to you now, I'd be unable."

He hummed, he saw no reason why she would lie but he couldn't help the inherent distrust he harbored within.

"What's your name?"

"Irene."

"Just Irene?"

"Yes. What's yours?"

"Abraxas Malfoy."

The light then twinged a shade of red and she smiled. "Liar."

Instead of being annoyed, he merely hummed in fascination. "Interesting... Tom Riddle."

The light went back to normal and she smiled, "where are you from, Tom Riddle? You're very curious. You seem determined and a bit ill." Tom looked at her for a long moment before turning around, gesturing for her to follow him into his tent.

It was rather small, though she didn't comment on the inconvenience since she didn't want to seem rude. However, as she passed through the two flaps she was met with a rather comforting interior. Candles were lit everywhere, one whole side wall was a library, one had maps and other papers pinned to it, there seemed to be a kitchen and dining area, a bathroom, and a sleeping section. Not to mention a massive desk set towards the middle of the whole thing.

Her expression must've been obvious because he snickered, "you've never seen magic, have you?" Irene shook her head, "not properly."

As she was gazing at all the books, she heard some clinking of glass and turned to find Tom making two cups of tea. She didn't have the heart to tell this strange boy she didn't drink tea, that technically wasn't lying as long as she never mentioned it.

Sitting down at the dining table, he shortly joined her. He held the presence of no longer the explorer she took him to be, more so like a scholar now. Tom had put on a pair of glasses, the frames perched on his sharp nose. Irene quickly realized he was trying to analyze her. He's probably never met a vampire before.

The thought made her smile, so they had a first in common.

"Where do you come from?" She asked again, "and I don't mean England."

He took a tentative drink, the steam from the beverage making the lens' of his glasses fog for a moment. "So my story?"

"Yes."

"I can't tell you why I'm here."

"You don't have to."

He leaned back, something about this was strangely comforting. Not having to lie, not _wanting_ to. It was hard to explain but Tom has had to lie all his life, manipulating the world around him just to get some sort of step up the ladder of success. But with whatever she did, she took away that necessity. It felt like he was stretching for the first time in awhile. Like a yawn his body has been wanting to release.

"Where do I start?"

She pulled her knee up to her chin, perching herself up into the chair. "Anywhere you'd like." Only then did Tom note how small she seemed to be. Not in the sense that she was tiny, her presence was just a very light feeling, like she'd start floating at any moment.

"I don't know where to start."

"Tell me a story."

"How old are you?"

Irene sighed, he never liked getting right to the point apparently. "Technically, I'm nineteen."

"How long have you been nineteen?"

"Ninety four years."

"So you're quite young for a vampire, aren't you?"

"I am. Now, tell me a story."


	4. part ii

**He** took another drink and pushed his glasses up, mulling over his words for a moment. "I've seen many beautiful places on my journey though I can't quite seem to grasp the concept within me." Tom blinked at himself in surprise. Irene grinned, "you'll find once you start it's hard to stop."

"I find that inconvenient."

"You wouldn't have trusted me if I hadn't offered complete honesty."

"Who said I trusted you?"

"Do you let just anyone into your home and make them tea?"

He didn't answer her, but continued with a slight glare in her direction. "Even though I'm seeing all the beautiful places, I still feel as if I'm some sort of watching thing. Like I'm not there, but observing from outside of my body. Yet all my understanding of the beauty was left behind, I'm just my conscience. There is nothing no longer in between to me and I thought for a moment maybe nothing is real."

"It sounds like you're talking about your soul that's missing."

He eyed her cautiously, not wanting to accidentally spill he was on his path of making horcruxes. 

Then she shrugged, "it's getting hard for me to remember, mine was ripped apart when I was turned."

Tom leaned forward, "did it hurt?"

Irene frowned, recalling what had been done to her. "Most severely."

"I thought I was going to die."

The fear that was in his voice only made her frown deepen. The more she continued to look at him she realized how much of a boy he still was, he was probably around eighteen but his eyes looked so much older.

"You've gone through much pain and suffering, haven't you?"

Tom's dark eyes met hers, "...most severely."

Irene bit at her lip, making her fangs poke out more than they usually did. If Tom didn't know any better he'd say her lips appeared to be the color of blood.

She stood up then, "come with me."


	5. part iii

**As** she led him up the hill, Tom let her hold his hand. He had been uncomfortable at first, he wasn't used to the feeling and it often disgusted him. These thoughts were overtaken by how cold she was, it nearly hurt to even touch her skin but he casted a warming charm on himself to combat this.

The environment around them took on a strong light blue hue, the snow they crunched through soaking in the moonlight. He was about to ask her if she needed a coat of some sorts before having to remind himself she most likely didn't need one. Her hair in this lighting took on an indigo color.

Eventually they stopped at the top, Irene let go of his hand and began walking around him in a decently large circle. Tom was confused but remained still, getting the hint he shouldn't move.

His eyes blinked in surprise and also a bit of childlike wonder as the snow melted away revealing stone with runes in it, and the very earth began to glow that lovely shade of violet. When she started to sing however, he felt a chill ravish itself from the base of his skull down his spine. He'd never heard a sound so enchanting.

Irene began to sing a tale in Austrian, it started woeful but as it progressed her tone gave the indication about the pleasures of life. Her foot placements were well practiced as she stepped carefully around each divot. One would guess this was some form of magic, but he realized this was all simply coming from her. The energy around him was _her_.

Then he felt like his insides were being torn apart and sewn back together again, every cell in his body rewritten as the light began to sink into his skin. A void buried deep within him then shot forward in his chest, reminding him of its existence. Though this time it was different. It felt as if it was being slowly filled.

He felt like crying out either in disbelief or fear when he pieced it together.

Irene was putting his soul back in one piece.

Tom didn't think such a thing was even possible. But he didn't have the time to comprehend it as he fell to one knee, overwhelmed with the rawness of his being stitched back together. It felt like hell and heaven all at once.

His lungs ached with the want to sing along with her in some feeling or meaning. The wholeness that was swelling within made him feel as if he'd been blind his whole life, how could he have wrecked his soul so foully in the first place?

Why? Why was she doing this for him? A complete stranger?

"I don't know why you're so kind," his voice came out resembling a wail and only then did she kneel in front of him. She placed her cold hands on his cheeks and tilted his head up, Tom was greeted by the sight of her eyes completely glowing. There was nothing but violet. No whites and no iris. The image was haunting as she smiled gently.

"Why wouldn't you deserve this any less?"

"There are so many whose lives aren't as miserable as mine."

The light around them turned red.

Irene ran her thumb along his cheek bone, catching his warm tears.

"You're not broken. Not any more."

Now something happened on that hill. The smell of the snow or maybe the blood that was dripping from his nose. There was no more despair. Just something about that night, maybe Irene, she lit some fuse and made everything right.

Cause Tom Riddle has never been more alive.


	6. outro

though wise men at their end know dark is right,

because their words had forked no lightening they

do not go gentle into that good night.

 _rage_ ,

rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas


End file.
